Good Morning
by astrochick
Summary: Er.. the morning after the night before. Why is Rodney stuck to that table? And is that a trick of the light? Contains WS nonsense and is FINISHED!
1. Default Chapter

This is hopefully part one of a little fun. I can't give you an idea of what inspired it, as that will give the game away, but I'll give the credit to the appropriate person at the end.

I don't own this people, no not me.

Thanks for Mel for the beta.

**Good Morning**

Trying to ignore the rising feeling of… the rising feeling of something that was welling up from her stomach, Elizabeth Weir steadied herself and took a deep breath. Then wished she hadn't as her sides protested at the expansion of her lungs. She felt like she'd done ten rounds with a wrestler. She walked gently but sideways into the room. She'd worked out that if she kept her neck absolutely rigid, her head didn't feel like it'd fall off and roll across the floor.

"How is everybody today?" she said, before easing herself into her seat, as carefully as if she had hemorrhoids.

Then she belched, quietly, but belched nevertheless. She covered her mouth with her hand and looked quickly round the table to see if anyone had noticed. Then she wished she hadn't moved her head. Fortunately her head appeared to stay on her neck.

Major Sheppard's team was sitting around the table, waiting for their briefing. That wasn't strictly true, she thought vaguely through the foggy mess that was her brain. McKay looked like someone had superglued his forehead and nose to the table. He was sprawled across the table like someone had crucified him face down. He wasn't moving. Elizabeth wasn't even sure he was alive. John Sheppard slouched in his chair, avatar sunglasses on, hair akimbo and blindly fumbling for the coffee mug in front of him. Tey'la, her face a curious shade of green, pushed it toward him, wincing as the cup scraped across the table. Ford was… Ford was asleep in his chair, mouth hanging open. It wasn't a pretty sight. Elizabeth leant forward… was that drool or a trick of the light?

Her stomach did that rising feeling thing again. She belched. This time Sheppard noticed. He looked up from his coffee and smirked at her across the rim of the mug. Then the sunlight streaming into the room reminded him he couldn't see and he growled in pain.

"Major," She turned to Sheppard. "Given the status of you and your team today, I suggest we postpone this briefing."

Sheppard opened his mouth, thought for a moment and then remembered why his mouth was open.

"Aw, come on!" he said finally, sounding like someone had smacked him in the mouth. "You had as much to drink as the rest of us…"

"Unlike you and the rest of your team, I can hold my liquor, Major," she said primly, shuffling her papers, and then belched again.

There was a groan from McKay. Apparently he was still alive and sentient. "Could you talk any louder?" he muttered into the table. "I don't think my ears have bled enough this morning."

"Yes," Tey'la spoke. "The noise in this room this morning appears to be extremely painful" At that Ford slid in his seat next to Tey'la and his head dropped onto her shoulder. Tey'la winced again as Ford snuggled into her neck and muttered "mommy."

Tey'la pushed Ford off her. He flopped forward in his seat, head wilting like a dehydrated plant. Elizabeth wondered how he managed to stay upright but he seemed to be perfectly balanced on the fulcrum of his ass.

Intrigued by the fact that he could do such a feat and remain soundly unconscious Elizabeth didn't realise she had been staring at Ford's amazing balancing talents until Sheppard remarked "I'm surprised at you, Tey'la. I thought you would've been used to Athosian liquor"

At that, Tey'la stood up suddenly and swayed. "Please excuse me, Dr Weir. Major Sheppard," she said and ran out the room.

"What did I say?" Sheppard asked the ceiling.

"I don't know, Major" Elizabeth was amused despite the ever present rising feeling in her gut. "Perhaps you reminded her about how she sank ten Athosian gins and drank Carson Beckett under the table."

"That reminds me, " he said, leaning over the table and wagging a finger at her "You owe me. I told you Tey'la could drink any man under the table."

"Ah," said Elizabeth, her mind struggling to find a way to avoid paying out the bet she'd made with Sheppard during the previous nights festivities. It was too much effort. With a sigh, she reached into her pocket, took out her last chocolate bar and looked at it wistfully. It was small, but it was her last one.

Then she tore off the wrapper, and stuffed the whole bar into her mouth.

"Hey! That was mine!" Sheppard got out of his chair, but then his knees buckled. She smirked and flicked the wrapper across the table at him. Rising feeling be damned, she thought, it was worth it to see the look on his face. She belched. Again.

"People! My ears!" Rodney moaned into the table again. Elizabeth looked around her. Major Sheppard was sitting opposite her, with hair that looked like it'd had a herd of cows trampling through it and sporting stubble that would have put Long John Silver to shame, Rodney McKay was sprawled out face down on the table like some bizarre sacrifice and Aiden Ford was balanced just so, head in chest - was that drool or was it a trick of the light?

The surrealness of the situation suddenly struck her and she began to laugh. Then wished she hadn't because her sides hurt so goddamn much. She winced.

"I am going to retire to my quarters, Major." She stood up, a little too quickly, but when the world steadied itself, she found Sheppard looking at her with a puzzled expression on his face.

"What's wrong?" she asked.

"Are you okay?" he said, peering at her. "Your face, it's all … blotchy."


	2. Never get between a man and his can

I apologise for the West of Scotland references in this piece. Irn Bru ™ is a popular, if not cult-like soft drink in the region that Beckett comes from. Tunnocks caramet logs are also a local delicacy. I don't own them, I don't own anything in this story…

This chapter is dedicated to the posters in the Beckett's Haggis thread in Gateworld

Chapter 2

**Never get between the man and his can**

Carson Beckett stared at the aluminum can in front of him. It was pristine, it was untouched. It hadn't even been dented. It had survived being ripped apart to quarks and put back together again by the unnaturalness of wormhole travel. He shivered deep into his soul. Wormhole travel wasn't right, but miraculously his can of Irn Bru had made it through intact.

It was the only one in the Pegasus galaxy, in fact.

The trouble was, did the circumstances justify its use?

Well, his head felt like a clootie dumpling, it had to admit. But it had been a great night, and well worth the aftereffects. Even if he couldn't remember past the drinking competition with Teyla. However, he wasn't the only one who'd had overindulged, judging by the number of visitors he'd had this morning complaining about headaches, upset stomachs and lack of memory.

The Athosians had informed the residents of the city that their first crop had been ready for consumption, gin – well, at least that was the nearest Sheppard had managed to define it. Judging by its potent effects calling it gin wasn't far off the mark either. After some persuasion Dr Weir had been convinced of the need for the beleaguered residents of the city to have a party.

Leaving a skeleton crew manning the control room, the rest of the Atlanteans had crowded into the mess room. It had been a great night. Beckett had finally got round to meeting some members of the expedition; he'd found another two Scots, one of which, Heather, a tall, curly red-haired astronomer from near his home town had given him an odd look when he'd told her about his secret haggis stash. Heather, it had to be admitted, had spent most of the night giggling in the corner with her friend Mel, an American physicist, and who, at one point were trying to convince Major Sheppard to sing. The other Scot, Susan, from Archaeology, a lassie from Loch Lomond no less. Small and dark haired with the face of an angel he'd quite taken to her. Then there was Michelle, the petite, dark haired English girl – he smiled to himself, a bonny lassie as well. Life in Atlantis was now looking up! Perhaps it had been worth coming through that godforsaken wormhole.

That can of Irn Bru looked beautiful, he mused. Cold, he could see the condensation dulling the vibrant orange and blue colours. He really, really wanted it. He swallowed hard, imagining the bubbles of the orange liquid hitting the back of his dry throat, And that taste, uniquely Irn Bru, of sugary nails, he'd heard it said "More watery than water itself", rushing past his taste buds

Picking up the can he appreciated the coldness of the metal and he turned it so he could read the nutritional information: water, sugar, carbon dioxide, citric acid, flavorings, preservatives. His mouth watered. Aye, he'd open it, it was just a shame he didn't have a nice big bag of salt and vinegar crisps and a Tunnocks caramel log and he'd be laughing goodbye to his hangover.

He inserted his finger under the metal tab, and pulled it back. There was that expulsion of sound – the onomatopoeic sound of relief, and he place the can to his lips inhaling that smell, his mouth watering in sweet, sweet anticipation…

"Dr Beckett?" A soft voice whispered in his ear. Sweet Mother of God! Beckett jumped and the arm holding the can jerked sending the can and its contents all over his desk. "Oh bloody hell!" he wailed as he watched the precious orange liquid spilling out over his papers.

"Look what you made me do, Major!"

"Oh my god, I'm sorry, Carson!" Dr Weir was with the evil Major. Weir quickly ran off to find some tissue to clean up the mess, while Sheppard picked up the can.

"What the hell is this stuff?" Sheppard asked, his fingers stained virulent orange. "It's sticky!"

"Give me that Major!" snapped Beckett and he snatched the can off Sheppard, raising it to his lips trying desperately to drain the last few drops. Two drops, a measly two drops, fell onto his tongue. Beckett felt like crying.

Weir came back with the tissue, and started to mop up the mess, which was considerable, the Irn Bru was running over the edge of the desk and pooling on the floor.

"Carson, what is this?" she asked. "It's sticky"

"Only the elixir of life," he intoned, suddenly seriously depressed. He slumped against the wall.

Weir threw the roll of tissue at Sheppard. "Here, Major," she ordered. "You can finish up here, and make sure you get it all." She glared at Sheppard, Beckett was pleased to note. Just wait until the Major was back from his next mission, he'd give him a bit more than the standard mission physical.

Weir took Beckett by the arm and led him into the examination room. "I'm sorry about your drink, Carson." Weir said. "What was it?"

"I was taking it for medicinal purposes," said Beckett "It's the best damn hangover cure in Scotland."

Weir nodded sympathetically "You too?"

"And most of Atlantis" Beckett replied. "I've had about twenty people in this morning already. Still…" He looked at Weir for the first time. "Jings, what is that rash on your face?"

"Yes, I know" Weir said, scowling, "I'm sure it's nothing, but Major Sheppard insisted that you examine me."

"Sit down there, Dr Weir, and I'll take a wee look at it." He sat her down on one of the infirmary beds and popped a thermometer into her mouth. "Let's have a look." He leant into Weir's face, peering at the rash closely. It was concentrated on the lower part of her face, and was red and blotchy in nature.

"Is it itchy?" he asked.

"Not really," she mumbled thorough the thermometer.

Beckett took Weir's chin in his hand, and turned her face into the light. "Well, there's no sign of blistering. It looks like a slight case of contact dermatitis." He took out the thermometer. "Well that's normal," he said. Smiling slightly, he asked, "Have you been rubbing your face against something noxious in the last few hours?"

"Not that I can remember." Weir frowned. "There's a lot I can't remember about last night."

"Aye, said Beckett, turning to put down the thermometer and picking up the flashlight. "I've had a lot of folk in here today complaining of the same thing."

"Really? That concerns me, Doctor," said Weir. "Ow," She winced as he shone the flashlight in her eyes.

"Sorry, sorry," he murmured. "Well, your eyes look fine too, no sign of irritation" He turned to his table and put the flashlight down. "Aye, it's a wee bit worrying", he continued."I was thinking of doing some analysis of the liquor and asking Teyla a wee bit about its usual effects."

"Good idea," said Weir. "Let me know if you find anything interesting."

Sheppard strolled into the room at that point, and punted the pile of soggy, orange tissue into the nearest bin. "So, doc," he said, coming to stand next to Beckett and peering at the Weir's face, "What's the diagnosis?"

"Well, it looks like some kind of contact dermatitis. I'm going to give you some antihistamine cream to clear it up." Weir made a face." But I would advise you not to go rubbing your face against whatever you rubbed it against again."

"I'm sure that won't be a problem," said Weir.

Sheppard's eyebrows went through the roof. "Rubbing your face.. what have you been rubbing your face against, Dr Weir?"

"I have no idea," said Weir shortly, as Beckett handed her the cream. "I'm sure it will clear up. Thank you, Carson. Major, I will be in my office." She arched an eyebrow at Sheppard. "I'm sure you have duties to attend to."

"Yes, Ma'am." Sheppard smirked.

"Carson, I would be very interested to hear the results of your analysis." With that Weir jumped off the bed and walked out of the infirmary, passing as she did so Rodney, who staggered in clutching his head.

"Carson, my ears," he bleated. Beckett sighed. It was going to be a long, long day.


	3. A Bad Case of Intergalactic Bed Head

I was supposed to be getting ready for Christmas and studying some maths, but Elizabeth, my muse, insisted I finish this scene off.

Because I wanted to post it for Christmas, it hasn't been beta'ed so I hope there aren't a lot of mistakes.

Thanks for all the reviews. Do keep them coming, they keep me motivated!

Anyway, I hope you enjoy this. This is the first time I've written a scene of this type. I want to thank particularly the fine ladies of the Sheppard Thunk thread on Gateworld for their inspiration; particularly whoever coined the phrase "intergalactic bed head". Thanks to Melyanna - it's her fault and the other Weir/Sheppard shippers I know for writing great fic that inspires me and for listening to me witter…

Merry Christmas!

Astroxx

Rated PG for language.

I don't own these people, if I did, John Sheppard would be in my storage closet.

A Bad Case of Intergalactic Bed-Head 

Elizabeth couldn't find the damn control panel that would let her get into her room. Where the hell was it? For the hundredth time she cursed the lack of lighting in the hallway, however, it was extremely late, she didn't want to raise the lights just to find it and disturb the other occupants of the corridor.

It didn't help that she was having trouble keeping her eyes focused or that her arms and legs were not quite doing as she would have wished them to. She also found her mind kept wandering off and she'd suddenly find herself staring at the floor. Gathering her thoughts, again, she looked up and ran her hands along the sides of the door. "Bugger" she swore.

She froze as she heard a low chuckle behind her. She straightened and turned round. Major Sheppard was leaning against the wall, arms crossed, smirking at her. She scowled. How long had he been standing there smirking?

Damn him and his smirking. In fact, she wished he would just keep his smirking to himself. And his eyes, which were currently twinkling at her, in a way that should be definitely outlawed. In fact, she'd pass a rule tomorrow, that Major John Sheppard was to desist smirking and twinkling forthwith. And his hair. That hair was far too distracting. She'd bet her last buck he spent hours in front of the mirror trying to get it to stick out like that. The man had a bad case of intergalactic bed-head. The hair had to be sorted. And he had to shave more. That day-old bristle couldn't possibly comply with Air Force Regulations and all it did was emphasize those so-soft lips. Those lips that were now smirking at her. Curse him!

She hated him. What was he doing here, outside her quarters anyway?

"Major?" She pulled herself straight. Well as straight as she could manage, given that she wasn't quite in control of her body. Perhaps he was lost. "Are you lost?"

He continued smirking and shook his head.

Then to her complete shock, he started to sing.

"Fly me to the moon" he crooned, his voice surprisingly low and husky, and well, sexy. Her knees suddenly felt a bit on the weak side. To hide that fact, she steadied herself against the wall. He wasn't going to put her off her stride that easily. She arched an eyebrow and marshaled her face into her "I am so going to fry your butt," expression.

It didn't work. "Let me sing amongst the stars" he continued, raising his eyebrows and opening his eyes, giving him a curious look of hopeful innocence.

Elizabeth refused to soften, she'd seen that look too many times before, but a small feeling of panic started to flutter in her stomach, mixed with another feeling she tried to suppress.

"Well, yes Major" she injected as much ice as she could into the words considering her lower abdomen was trying to melt "you have an excellent singing voice. Is that what you wanted to tell me?"

"Let me see what spring is like," why, she swallowed hard, he was… looking her up and down, in a way that made her feel... She wasn't going to go there dammit! She sank back against the wall, her hands scrabbling trying desperately to find that elusive door control.

"Major?" she squeaked.

"On Jupiter and Mars" She couldn't ignore the rush of heat that suffused her whole body. She lifted her hair off the back of her neck with her hand, the movement accidentally thrusting her breasts forward and arching her back from the wall.

He must have liked what he had seen, because he grinned suddenly. He advanced forward, "In other words" he sang. Oh by god, she knew what was coming. She was doomed. There was no escape.

"Hold my hand" he took the hand that had been wrapped round her neck, looking deep into her eyes with his "you can have me if you want" expression, his pupils dark and dilated. Elizabeth couldn't help but be mesmerized, even though she knew that the man was a complete flirt-god and she should know better.

He was inches from her. She could feel his heat along her skin, and he smelt, of Sheppard, just edible. She moaned, as he softly kissed the palm of her hand, his lips incredibly soft.

"In other words," he suddenly jerked her forward and she fell against his body, solid and firm. If she'd been melting before, she was now just a puddle. "Baby kiss me" he dipped his head towards her mouth, she closed her eyes, she could feel his breath against her lips and…

The evil bastard just hovered there.

Elizabeth was beyond thinking reasonably. She finished it for him, grabbing the back of his neck with her free hand and kissing him. He released the hand he'd been holding and pulled her into him, his hand finding itself suddenly underneath her shirt.

She gasped into his mouth as his thumb slowly and lazily stroked her overheated skin, raising goosebumps and a thousand thrills along her nerve endings.

God he was an excellent kisser, his lips were full and soft with just the right amount of teasing and pressure on her lips so that they parted to allow him to.. oh god he tasted good. Elizabeth contented herself with running her hands through his hair, which if she had been being honest with herself, she'd been dying to do for ages. Bed-head. She'd give him a case of bed-head the city would be talking about for months.

They thudded against the wall, their kissing suddenly becoming more heated. Sheppard's body was pressed her into the wall, his hands roaming in areas where they shouldn't be, and his leg had somehow inserted itself between hers. She found herself pulling the shirt out from his pants, and toying with his belt buckle.

Elizabeth suddenly realized that the little grunts of pleasure she could hear were coming from him, she must have been doing something right, she thought in a rare second of coherent thought. She tugged at his hair, as he moved his mouth to that area just under her right ear and nuzzled into her neck, his hand trying to undo her bra. She was eagerly kissing the area under his ear and trying to hook her right leg around his leg when she suddenly lost her balance slightly.

Her hand shot out and by pure chance found the release for the door control mechanism.

The door to her quarters opened.


	4. In his dreams

Okay, so this is the next chapter.

Usual disclaimers… I don't own these people, or I'd have them locked up in a transporter for as long as it takes… which is probably about ten minutes…

Hope you enjoy it!

Chapter 4

In His Dreams…

John Sheppard woke up in a tangle of sheets, sweat and arousal. He lay staring into the dark room, breathing heavily as his thoughts struggled to catch up with the fact that he was lying in his bed. The pillow under his head was soft and cool on his cheek, and his sheets were wrapped around his legs . He stretched out and freed his body from the sheets, and then let his body sag deeper into the mattress.

He'd been dreaming, an extremely vivid dream as his body could testify. He felt a strange bittersweet ache as he realised he was awake. And alone.

He'd been having an extremely stimulating dream about Elizabeth Weir of all people.

Not that John didn't have erotic dreams, just that Weir wasn't usually in them. He also couldn't recall ever having a dream that had felt as real. Most of his dreams were hazy concoctions involving the smooth, soft skin, good legs and other areas of some perfect female who would look at him with large, pleading, doe eyes and generally not say very much. They did not involve clever, petit, dark haired, women who could sometimes look straight into him with clever green eyes. Did he say clever? Yes his dreams did not usually require intelligence.

Dreams also didn't involve his boss. As a rule, he tried to avoid having erotic dreams about his commanding officers, it helped that most of them had been burly, hairy Air Force types and that biceps just didn't do it for him.

It didn't take a lot of effort for his thoughts to slide back into the dream. He could almost still taste Weir and feel how she had pressed her body against his...

He jumped out of bed. Don't go there, John-boy, he thought. He'd have to give his sub-conscious a good talking-to. A damn good talking-to. Having steamy, erotic dreams about Elizabeth Weir were not to be encouraged. He would not think about Elizabeth Weir in that way. Never. Ever.

The city systems had sensed that he was awake and had softly lit the room. He stepped into the shower, and turned the setting to cold, gasping as the needles of icy water struck his skin. Luckily showers hadn't figured in his dream, although it would have been extremely entertaining to pin Weir against the wall of the shower and....

He leant his forehead against the shower stall and groaned. This. Was. Not. Good. Think of something else. Anything. McKay's last briefing about some vacuum-energy thing to do with ZPMs. Weir had sat opposite Sheppard, her eyes wide and unfocused. He'd wondered at the time what was occupying her thoughts. He was almost one hundred percent certain she hadn't been listening, but somehow she had managed to ask the right questions when McKay had finally stopped. She had caught his eyes looking at her, and a small smile had flirted with her lips before she had refocused her gaze. Oh god, he remembered - her lips, softly parted and the way her tongue had…

Perhaps a session with Teyla in the gym would help work off some of this frustration. He made a mental note to book one with her when they met at the briefing later.

Stepping out the shower, he reached for a towel and dried himself off. The sensation of the towel on his skin reminded him of Weir's small, pale hands moving slowly across his body. He couldn't touch his skin it seemed, without feeling the memory of her. He looked at his hands, she had felt so incredibly real, her skin soft and toned, her ass…

Crap! The Wraith, think of the Wraith, and their pale, clammy skin and their bad breath.

He stood in front of the mirror, examining his face. At least his head didn't feel like it was going to explode or his eyes feel like they were dangling in front of his face on 10 inch stalks. He'd never had a hangover like the one he'd had yesterday. He'd never touch Athosian gin again. His hair, as usual was sticking out and his face was a field of bristle. He supposed he should shave. He stroked the skin just below his right ear.

Damn! The dream was back, he could feel whisper of Weir's breath as she softly moaned in his ear…

Throwing on his clothes he left the room and headed down the corridor toward the transporter. He needed to go and do something. His puddlejumper, he was sure, needed some maintenance. And if it didn't, he'd give it some maintenance anyway. It was still early for Atlantis, there were not many people about and the corridor was deserted. The soft, white light of early morning shone through the stained glass windows, scattering colors on the marbled floor. The transporter doors opened as he approached them and he stepped in, his eyes searching for and finding the hangars on the interactive map of the city.

"Hold on!" a voice called.

Oh crap. He leant against the transporter walls and closed his eyes. For a crazy second he was tempted to send the transporter on its way. He opened his eyes.

Weir burst into the transporter, ever so slightly out of breath, her cheeks flushed and her lips parted as she panted slightly. Damn, she looked good. Damn he couldn't think like that. Damn. He felt his body tighten at the sight of her. Damn.

Suddenly, there was not enough oxygen in the transporter.

When she saw it was him, she stopped dead, her green eyes wide and huge. She looked shocked and pale - not the reaction he usually got from her. Usually, she smiled at him and, well, they had this thing with their personal space he and Weir. Today, she was as far away from him as she could get without actually leaping out of the transporter.

No wonder, he thought, it wasn't every day she came across her ranking military officer staring at her like he'd never seen a woman before in his life and panting in the transporter.

Okay, that was an exaggeration. But he was panting, he was sure of it.

"Doctor?" he tried to find some composure and settled for the tried and trusted method of being irrelevant and annoying, quirking an eyebrow at her and tipping his head slightly away from her. He tried a smirk, but that seemed to be beyond him.

"Major?" She was suddenly brisk and formal. "You were going somewhere?"

"Hmmm…" he said. "Er yes, the hangars. The puddlejumpers need some maintenance"

She frowned. "I thought they had a thorough inspection yesterday?" Her hand shot out, finding the control panel. She was heading for the command centre, he noted. He felt the slight jerk at the transporter kicked in.

"Er yes" He'd forgotten that. "But… erm… the air intake valve for the atmospheric engines on puddlejumper one was a little… erm… choked"

She looked at him suspiciously before turning her attention to a close scrutiny of the wall. He felt like he was 13 and had been caught, doing what 13 years old do...What a sleazebag he was, having thoughts like that about his boss. What kind of man did that make him? She was more than his boss, she was his friend. She was more than just a body, she had a fine mind and all he could think about this morning was pressing her against the side of the transporter.

Scum, he was scum.

Guilt plaguing him, he suddenly felt hot and uncomfortable. He started to hum the song that had been playing in his head all morning.

Weir's head snapped round, "Major?" she squeaked.

"Doctor?" he said hoarsely. What the hell was up with her? She was as jumpy as a roomful of kittens.

"That tune…" she started.

"Fly me to the moon?"

"Yes"

"It was stuck, you know" he made a circular motion with his hand, "in my head"

"Oh" she turned back around.

Her next words took him by surprise. "Major, have you brushed your hair this morning?"

His eyebrows shoot through his forehead and hit the roof. His hair? She was talking about his hair? What was wrong with his hair? He was proud of his hair, he had a lot of it.

"Yes" he said, cautiously, looking at her closely. "Why?"

"It's a mess," she said primly, pursing her lips. "And while you're at it, you could do with a good shave."

The doors opened showing the quiet of the early shift command centre in front of them, and Sheppard was left his jaw hanging down somewhere near the floor as she walked out.


	5. Skinny dipping with Teyla and Carson

**This is a re-write of Chapter 5. It was mostly done to add some stuff and some of Elizabeth's thoughts...**

**Usual disclaimers: I don't own nothing... **

**Skinny Dipping with Carson and Teyla**

Elizabeth had calmed herself somewhat by the time she reached her desk. Catching Major Sheppard in the transporter, only moments after waking up from that dream had nearly derailed her sensibilities. He'd seem to dominate the whole transporter, he and that hair of his.

She groaned, as she remembered the vivid feeling of his hair running past her fingers, as she had pressed herself against his body… what had she been thinking of?

Dreaming, about Major Sheppard. Major Sheppard of the smirk, of the bed head and the ability to flirt with everything that breathed. Correction, she thought, he could flirt with things that were completely and utterly dead.

But Sheppard was more than a messy-haired, smirking flyboy though.

At least the rash on her face had cleared up. It was the strangest thing, she hadn't had a rash like that since high school, when she and Kevin Jenkins had spent a good hour tussling on her parent's sofa, and it hadn't been arm wrestling they had occupied their attention.

Kevin Jenkins. What a great kisser he had been. Elizabeth smiled to herself. John Sheppard, what a great kisser he was…in the dream. Despite herself she let her mind wander… It was a pity that she was his boss and his friend…. that thought brought her up with a start. What were her and Sheppard to each other? Were they friends? She held her coffee mug and looked out over the steam into her room. She would have answered yes to that question before this morning, but the dream had upset her emotional applecart. Intergalactic bed head indeed! She snorted and half giggled at the mental imagery.

Who wouldn't be attracted to Sheppard? She put her coffee mug down and leant her forearms onto the desk, gazing out through the window onto the balcony and sea beyond. She'd noticed, more than she meant to notice, a good number of the women responding to his undoubted good looks and charm. She'd thought herself above all of that and that she'd been immune to all of that. That somehow the two of them had forged a relationship that went beyond the shallowness of sexual attraction and was based on mutual respect and admiration. They may not always agree on the best action to take, she and Sheppard but she knew he was a good man and like her, always strived to do what was right.

She sighed. This morning had not been cool. She was a grown woman, used to experiencing dreams of that nature, just not necessarily about her ranking military officer. Although, if she were honest, it probably wasn't the first smutty dream involving Sheppard she'd had, especially in the early days when they'd been getting to know each other. However, she was used to the vagaries of her sub-conscious, she knew that feelings of that nature needed an outlet and she'd always managed to live with them, like she managed to live with other basic needs, like eating and breathing. Instead she had reacted like a sexually repressed schoolgirl this morning that had been locked up with a sex beast. She cringed.

Bugger, she would have to apologise to him. Time to work. She picked up her mug and drank some of the now lukewarm coffee, grimacing at the taste. She flipped the cover of the lap-top open and started to work. With some effort, she opened the latest report about mainland grain production, she rubbed her eyes blearily and tried to focus on the figures on the screen.

Two hours later, the sound of voices in the briefing room next door roused her from last week's recycling plant maintenance figures. She checked her watch, the daily briefing wasn't due to start for another five minutes. She could hear McKay as he walked into the room

"And then I was skinny dipping. Right off the West Pier. Carson, me and Teyla. Although to be accurate, we weren't completely naked as such. But we did take most of our clothes off…"

"That's nothing" said a voice, Ford. "I was skateboarding in the corridors. It was the weirdest dream. It just felt so …"

Elizabeth stopped reading the recyling plant figures.

"Vivid?" Rodney replied, "I'll bet, it went on for hours! Teyla ended up getting tangled up in some sort of Atlantis seaweed, and we had to spend a bit of time helping her disentangle herself. That was fun." Elizabeth could almost see the smile on Rodney's face.

"In your dreams Rodney", Elizabeth thought. "Where did your subconscious dig that up from?"

"You don't get out much do you?" said Ford, sounding a little jealous. Elizabeth smiled to herself and got up to walk into the briefing room.

"Who doesn't get out much?" Sheppard had entered the room, carrying a mug of coffee.

"McKay" said Ford. "We were just talking about the weird dreams we had last night"

Weir walked into the briefing room, just in time to catch Major Sheppard turning white.

"Dreams?" he said hoarsely. Then he caught sight of Elizabeth across the table and jumped like a scalded cat. She could almost hear the yowls of the said cat echo around the briefing room.

Elizabeth hoped, fervently, that no-one would ask her about her dreams. She could imagine the conversation…

"Well yes, I dreamt that Major Sheppard sang "Fly me to the Moon" and then pressed me against a wall…" having said that Sheppard had the most exquisite expression of guilt and horror on his face and she suddenly found herself immensely curious to find out what he did dream about.

"I.. er…don't dream" he said at last, flopping into a seat.

Elizabeth was curiously disappointed, it seemed the Major didn't have a vivid an imagination as the rest of his team. Or her for that matter. That train of thought wasn't to be encouraged, however, so she was grateful when Carson Beckett spoke over the radio.

"Go ahead Carson" she spoke into her radio mic.

"Doctor Weir, can you come to the infirmary please?" Elizabeth could see the little frown of worry, furrowing Carson's forehead through the tone of his voice.

"Is there something wrong Carson?" she said, frowning herself.

"I need to speak to you, I've had reports of strange dreams from all over the city"

"Really?" She looked at Sheppard and his two team members, who were suddenly extremely attentive.

"Is Rodney there?" Beckett asked,

"Yes, Carson," Rodney replied.

"Tell me Rodney, did you dream you were skinny dipping off the West Pier, with.."

"Teyla?" Rodney's voice raised an octave.

"I also had the same dream Dr McKay" Teyla's calm voice enunciated across the airwaves.

Sheppard spat his coffee across the table.

The Infirmary

They were all in the infirmary. Sheppard was standing a little apart from the rest of the group, leaning against the wall, arms folded, face impassive, eyes guarded. He hadn't said anything since she had taken off from her chair, but she had she had been acutely aware of him, could feel the energy burning off his body, all the way through the corridors of the city to where they were standing now.

Most of Atlantis, it seemed, had experienced very vivid dreams last night. Not only that, a big proportion of those who had dreamed had had the same dreams. Teyla, Carson and McKay had all been skinny dipping off the West Pier. Ford had been skateboarding in the corridors and Zelenka and Grodin had been playing strip poker in the mess hall with two female scientists. Grodin had lost apparently, and had been down to his socks. All four participants had corroborated that fact.

Which meant, that possibly….

She was not going to go there. The thought that Sheppard had had the same dream as her made her squirm, she rubbed the back of her neck to try and cool herself after yet another rush of heat.

Elizabeth thanked her lucky stars that nobody had asked her what she had dreamt about last night.

"What did you dream about last night Doctor Weir?" asked Carson.


	6. What Teyla was wearing

**Chapter 6**

**What Teyla wore**

Elizabeth didn't look too well, Rodney thought as he watched all the colour leave her face after Carson asked her what she had dreamt about. Elizabeth looked as horrified as if she'd been suddenly faced by a Wraith who hadn't had a decent human life in a few millennia.

"Nothing" she blurted out, after a few second's pause "absolutely nothing. I don't dream."

Rodney didn't believe her for a minute. Whatever she had dreamt it had obviously been completely terrifying. She had also repeated exactly what Sheppard had said during the briefing. Come to think of it, Sheppard had also had that look of panic when asked that question earlier.

"Interesting" Rodney mused aloud. "Major Sheppard also claimed to not have dreamt last night"

Turning to him, Rodney saw that Sheppard had stopped sulking against the wall and was now paying Elizabeth a lot of attention. Looking at Elizabeth, Rodney could see that she was availing the floor of her full and undivided attention.

"Are you sure that you didn't dream, or is that you won't remember it?" Rodney found himself now intensely curious. "Did you have a nightmare?"

"Rodney" Elizabeth lifted her head up from the floor, but was unable to stop Rodney's flow,

"Did both of you not dream?" Rodney continued. "Or did you both have the same dream but you can't remember?"

"McKay" Sheppard growled clenching his fists. Somewhere in the back of Rodney's mind a warning light flashed, but Rodney had been good at ignoring that particular facet of his personality, especially when he thought he was onto something. Carson, however, had also noticed.

"Rodney" Carson warned. "I'd shut up if I were you…"

"What?" Rodney turned to him "Perhaps they had a nightmare? Did you have a nightmare?" he turned to Elizabeth. " After all, the dreams that have been described by almost everyone in Atlantis have been good, except perhaps for Peter's unfortunate losing streak."

Elizabeth was glaring at him, so was Sheppard. Everyone else in the room was looking at either Elizabeth or Sheppard.

"No Rodney" Elizabeth spoke through clenched teeth. "I did not have a nightmare. I didn't dream."

"Neither did I" frothed Sheppard. "And I can't see why you're persisting with this line of thought McKay!"

"Major," Rodney looked at Sheppard, and pitied, as he did daily, the man's puny brain. How he had passed the Mensa test Rodney hadn't been able to fathom, unless of course he was some kind of idiot savant. "This could be extremely important, if you and Dr Weir are the only two people who did not dream last night it could give us some insight as to what is causing this."

"And why would that be?" Sheppard scowled.

"Well, firstly, the whole of Atlantis experienced some kind of memory loss and then everyone has been dreaming en masse, I would say that was pretty unusual even by standards in the Pegasus galaxy…"

There was a sudden silence.

"Could the two be related somehow?" Elizabeth said. "Carson, could the Athosian gin be causing some sort of mass hallucination effect?"

Beckett thought for a moment. "It's possible. I haven't started my analysis yet Dr Weir, I'm afraid, my time was spent yesterday attending to the sick and hungover." He glared at Rodney.

"What?" Rodney exclaimed, defensively. "I thought that I had been poisoned! I'm sure my kidneys were permanently damaged by that concoction."

"I didn't notice you holding back on the drinking of that concoction." Sheppard sneered.

Elizabeth, Rodney was pleased to note, shot the snarky Major a stern look. "None of us did Major" she said pointedly.

Sheppard blushed. He actually blushed. Rodney couldn't believe it, he was about to point it out to all and sundry, his mouth was open, the message was passing from his brain to his vocal chords, when Elizabeth glared at him, her eyes flashing red. Or so he imagined. He shut his mouth.

"Carson," Elizabeth moved toward the door, the conversation was obviously over as far as she was concerned "Can you and Rodney please analyse the Athosian gin and report back to me anything that might explain this situation."

"Dr Weir" Teyla had been quiet for most of the time, just merely watching the exchanges amongst her colleagues, Rodney could never figure out whether she just found these types of conversations beneath her or whether they were just going over her head. Teyla could be an enigma sometimes. "I seem to remember my father describing a similar incident after a wedding celebration but I cannot recall all the details. May I travel to the mainland and make enquiries?"

Weir smiled at the shorter woman, "Of course Teyla, anything you can tell us would be very useful. Major Sheppard will take you over, won't you Major?" Rodney noticed that Sheppard looked a bit put out at this. What was with him? Normally, prising Sheppard away from his beloved puddlejumpers was like getting Rodney away from a glowing ZPM.

"Yeah sure," Sheppard rubbed the back of his neck, making his hair stick up more than usual. "Just give me a few minutes Teyla."

"Thank you Major" the Athosian smiled at him, and nodded her head. "I will meet you in the bay in one hour."

Sheppard nodded. Weir and Teyla left the room, Sheppard and Ford following soon after, leaving Carson and Rodney alone to start their analysis.

Which they were engrossed in doing and just about to run the gin through the liquid chromatograph when Teyla burst into the infirmary half-an-hour later.

Which was unusual, because Teyla didn't usually burst in anywhere, she usually entered a room quietly, and with a fair amount of grace. However, this time she came running into the room.

"Dr McKay" she said breathily. "I must speak with you" she held up what appeared be a bra, with a long, green thing trailing from it.

"Teyla" Rodney said, his heart racing just a little more than was normal. "Is that your…"

"Brasserie?" squeaked Carson.

"Well recognized Doctor," Rodney said sarcastically. "I remember it" said Rodney, "You were wearing that.."

"In the dream, yes" said Teyla. "I also remember what you were wearing Dr McKay" she said pointedly, giving him a look that made him shrivel, in more ways than one.

"Or not wearing, as the case may be" smirked Carson.

"You were hardly well dressed yourself"

"Doctors" Teyla looked irritated, "This is one of my undergarments, granted. But it is this I wish to draw to your attention" She held out the long green thing.

"What is it?" said Rodney

Carson took the end of the thing in his hand. "I don't know Rodney," he said, "but it looks a lot like …"

"Seaweed" exclaimed Rodney. "It looks like seaweed! But.." he looked at Carson and then Teyla. "How did seaweed get attached to your…"

"Undergarment" Carson interjected helpfully.

"But that was a dream" spluttered Rodney. "Wasn't it?"

There was an appalled silence in the room.


	7. Something in the air

Usual disclaimers: If I owned them, Sheppard would be tied to my bed, Fenestrae!

Chapter 7

**Something in the air…**

Elizabeth stood contemplating the sea and the sky on the balcony outside her office. It was another beautiful day on Atlantis. She loved standing out here in the fresh air. The air on Atlantis was special; it always soothed her. Whenever she felt perturbed or upset, somehow standing on this balcony never failed to help dissolve the feelings of tension and anxiety that sometimes tied up her mind and body.

Standing here always helped her to get objective about whatever was plaguing her that day, whether it was an overdue team, blocked sewers or Rodney's latest gadget. She had come here after the conversation in the infirmary; her face had been hot and flushed but now she felt the breeze take the heat out of the capillaries on her face and with it the tension.

Cooler blood, cooler thoughts. For the first time, she managed to think calmly about what had happened. If everyone else on Atlantis had shared their extremely vivid dreams last night that meant that Sheppard had also dreamt about their passionate… episode.

She watched the sun shimmer and play on the ocean beneath her, hearing the gentle swell of the waves as they struck the city far below. Sometimes when she was here she fancied she could smell a hint of jasmine or lavender on the breeze, and she would smile at her fantasies. Today, all she could smell was the tang of salt and ozone. Leaning over the rail slightly she marveled at the city's beauty. The gleaming spires, the way the buildings seem to reach up and embrace the sky, the way light seemed not just to shine on it but shine from it.

She sighed.

She wasn't unduly surprised when she heard the doors open and his soft footsteps behind her, or when he moved to stand next to her, hands on the railing and stared out toward the horizon.

Neither said anything for a few minutes. Elizabeth was content just to let the breeze blowing off the blue ocean, whisper in her ear and just let her body and mind settle to the reality of his presence.

"Elizabeth," he said finally, "you didn't dream about nothing last night."

"No, I didn't," she said and looked down at their hands, hers white and small, his large and industrious, all four of them, neat in a row. "Neither did you."

"Yeah," she heard him sigh.

She felt, rather than saw him, turn toward her.

"I," he said, "I don't know what to say."

"Me neither." A small smile jerked at the corners of her mouth. She took a great interest in her hands clutching the rail in front of her, looking as the knuckles stretched the skin white above them.

The silence between them seemed to stretch as far as the purple-tinged horizon.

"I'm sorry," he blurted suddenly.

"Sorry?" she said, confused. She finally looked at him. Their eyes caught each other's for a moment, before he looked away, dismay and embarrassment drawn across his features.

"Yes," he said, looking out at the ocean. The wind was catching his hair, making it more chaotic than usual. "I was the one that started it. The dream must have come from my mind. I'm sorry."

Elizabeth wasn't sure that she was entirely happy with her ranking military officer taking the full blame, especially when he looked so miserable. "Well, I think I played my part," she said quietly.

He looked back at her and grinned. "You did," he said.

She couldn't help smiling at him, as something inside her uncoiled and spiked warmth through her body.

"Perhaps we're overreacting," she said, she turned so that her back faced the ocean. "It was just a dream."

"Yes," he said, looking a great deal more cheerful than he had a minute ago. "It was just in our heads." He pointed at his head. "Not, not that I make a habit of dreaming about you in those terms at all Elizabeth. I mean, you're a very attractive woman and all that… and I mean who wouldn't…"

"It's okay, Major, I understand." without thinking she put out her hand and placed it over his on the railing.

It was a mistake, because as she touched his warm skin, a thousand sensations exploded in her mind, Sheppard's hands moving over her, Sheppard's breath on her skin. She closed her eyes and swayed slightly. She felt her hand being taken and entwined in his, his thumb moving softly over her palm and she knew he was being assailed by the same memories.

"You were incredible," he said, so quietly it felt like a whisper in her ear.

She opened her eyes. "So were you."

He looked back at her with a slightly goofy smile. "I was?" He seemed surprised.

"Yes," she said simply.

For a moment they just stood and looked at each other. For the first time Elizabeth really looked at him, saw the fine lines belying his youthful demeanour and the first flecks of grey in his black hair. The look of uncertainty in his pupil-dark eyes. She took her free hand and stroked the rough bristle on his face, marveling at the difference in texture of his skin from her own. He closed his eyes and murmured in appreciation as her finger brushed against the corner of his mouth. Standing there, with his eyes closed, he suddenly looked vulnerable and she laughed softly. He opened his eyes and pouted at her.

"What?" he growled softly, and grabbed her hand pulling her towards him.

And she let him, closing her eyes, breathing in Sheppard, feeling his breath on her lips.

And then her eyes snapped wide open as she heard the door opening and excited footsteps clattering across the slate surface of the balcony.

Sheppard was suddenly six feet away from her, staring out to sea with crossed arms.

"Elizabeth.. Major… " Rodney said, holding up what looked like a bra with a string of dried seaweed attached to it. He was slightly out of breath. ".. those dreams? Only they weren't dreams, they actually happened!"

Thanks Melyanna for the beta, and for the extra commas!

Sinj, you asked for romance, and it was funny because I'd already written the chapter, great minds eh?

Thanks for bearing with me, I get busy in RL and I have to be in the mood or it's no good! But I'm hoping that Chapter 8 will be done soon.


	8. Never fly a puddlejumper when emotional

**Last time on Stargate Atlantis:**

There were hangovers all over Atlantis, and Dr Weir had a mysterious rash over her face. Major Sheppard made Dr Beckett spill his Irn Bru, in the meantime, everybody went to bed and everybody suffered experienced some very strange but vivid dreams. Dr Weir dreamt she and Major Sheppard **snogged **after he sang "Fly Me To the Moon" to her. Drs McKay and Beckett had gone** skinny dipping** with Teyla (the baggage!) and had to rescue her when she got tangled in seaweed. Peter Grodin **lost all his clothes **except his socks... Teyla returns to her room to discover that her bra had seaweed tangled in it... leading Dr McKay to reach the conclusion that the **dreams were real after all!** Meanwhile, on a balcony somewhere, Dr Weir and Major Sheppard have an encounter that leaves them **hotter and sweatier** than before... before Dr McKay bursts on the scene with Teyla's bra and the proof that is about to **shake Atlantis to its very core...**

**Chapter 8:Turbulence**

Teyla arrived on the balcony just after Dr McKay, having pursued him and her undergarment all the way from the infirmary. She couldn't recall the scientist ever moving that fast before. Perhaps he had been training.

Dr Weir and Major Sheppard were already there. Major Sheppard had been staring out to sea before Dr McKay had arrived. However, after Dr McKay's announcement, Major Sheppard now looked – Teyla searched for the word in her head. Terrified.

Dr Weir's face, however, had turned a peculiar shade of green, she looked like she might be ill. Teyla was concerned. However, as she opened her mouth to ask after Dr Weir's health, Major Sheppard recovered his voice.

"What?" he said. "Rodney, what are you doing with Teyla's bra?"

Dr McKay waved it in his face, "It's not … this… it's the seaweed…" he shook his head and turned to look at Major Sheppard, who was standing with his mouth open looking at the object in Dr McKay's hands.

"How did you know that was Teyla's?" Drs McKay and Weir asked in chorus. Teyla was also puzzled, she could not recall Major Sheppard ever laying eyes upon her undergarments, so she joined the other two in regarding Major Sheppard with a piercing stare.

"I er, erm, just when this day could not be more awkward…" Major Sheppard mumbled, his face burning. "It's got her name tag on it" he said quickly.

Teyla cocked her head to one side. "Name tag?" she questioned.

Major Sheppard looked haunted, "It's a tag with your…"

"Never mind Major," Dr Weir said coldly. Teyla noticed the hurt that flashed over her face and sighed inwardly. It seemed that she, Dr McKay and her undergarment had all arrived at a most inopportune moment.

"What was that about the seaweed?" Dr Weir moved away from the balcony.

"The dreams!" blurted Dr McKay "We think the dreams actually happened!"

"Aw crap" Major Sheppard ran his fingers through his hair, making it even wilder than normal. "aw crap, crap, crap" he said again, turning toward the sea and then back toward Dr McKay. He was certainly very agitated.

Dr Weir looked at Major Sheppard with irritation. Teyla could relate to Dr Weir's plight at times, being a woman and leading men who acted like children was extremely trying.

"And that has what to do with seaweed exactly?" Dr Weir asked. Arms folded.

"Teyla in our dream" Dr McKay seemed to find Major Sheppard's behaviour very interesting as he was somewhat distracted by it. "Are you allright Major?" he asked.

"Rodney, focus" Dr Weir said.

"Er yes. Sorry Elizabeth. In our shared dream, when we were swimming Teyla got tangled up in seaweed.. we, that is Carson and I, had to help free her. And today she found this attached to her…" Dr McKay looked at Teyla's undergarment and held it up helpfully in front of Dr Weir.

"Bra" Weir supplied helpfully.

"Yes, thankyou, while she was searching for her … something or other…"

"My nightgown" Teyla helped Dr McKay out this time. Did the man not know what items of clothing were called?

Dr Weir looked at Major Sheppard. He looked at her.

"Your rash" he said.

"My rash." She stated.

"What about your rash?" Dr McKay said. "Wait, you two did have the same dream didn't you? I knew it!"

Teyla knew she had to take charge of this situation quickly or judging by the look on Dr Weir's face, she was going to murder either Major Sheppard or Dr McKay or both of them.

"Dr Weir, may I have a word with you?" Teyla asked.

Half an hour later and Teyla and Major Sheppard were in puddlejumper one skimming across the ocean. Teyla occupied herself watching Atlantis' sun scintillate across the surface of the water; Major Sheppard had not said a word since they had started their journey to the mainland despite Teyla's best attempts to get him to speak to her. She was very fond of the Major, she felt that he and she had an affinity despite the fact that they had been born and raised in different galaxies and it pained her to see him so tense.

Major Sheppard sighed once again. Teyla turned to look at him, as he turned to her.

"What?" he said.

She frowned, "You seem quite perturbed Major Sheppard."

"Yeah well, I've got a lot to be perturbed about." Through the window Teyla could see the mainland growing in size on the horizon.

"Would it be of assistance if you told me what you are perturbed about?" Teyla asked him. Teyla actually had a very good idea about what was bothering Major Sheppard but she believed that if he spoke to her about it. However, she was obviously going to have to help him on his way.

"It's just" Major Sheppard waved his free hand in the air vaguely, "it's just Eliza… Dr Weir and I had a disagreement."

Teyla looked at him and raised an eyebrow. Major Sheppard and Dr Weir often had disagreements Teyla had noticed. Teyla had also noticed that Major Sheppard and Dr Weir liked to stand very close to each other and they often engaged in what Athosians called "ifucage". Teyla had in fact, surmised that Major Sheppard and Dr Weir were sexually attracted to each other but for some reason unable to act upon their feelings, which to Teyla was very strange. But there were many things she found odd about Earth people, not least of all Dr McKay's strange dependency on a beverage called coffee.

"What?" Major Sheppard said again irritably.

Teyla was extremely tempted to reply with "Does this have any connection with the sexual attraction you and Dr Weir clearly feel for each other?" or "Why do you not mate with Dr Weir and resolve the situation?" but she felt, wisely, that neither would help the situation. Besides Major Sheppard was in control of the puddle jumper and she had no wish to crash into the ocean.

So she signed inwardly and suppressed her Athosian directness. "Was this disagreement connected to the dreams we all experienced?"

"You mean the experiences we all dreamt?"

Teyla nodded. "Yes, that is one way to look at it."

Major Sheppard sighed. "Yes it was."

"Did you and Dr Weir dream the same experience?"

The puddlejumper swerved violently. Teyla gripped her armrests and cursed inwardly as Major Sheppard recovered himself and got the craft under control.

"Sorry" Major Sheppard apologised. He sighed. "Yes we dreamt the same experience."

And said nothing. Teyla looked through the window and rolled her eyes. She was obviously going to have to be more direct.

"Was that experience responsible for the rash that Dr Weir suffered?"

"Yes" Major Sheppard's voice had a note of doom about it.

"Major Sheppard, I too remember experiencing such a rash when I was young." Major Sheppard turned to look at her with a wry smile.

"I bet you did" he said. "Pretty girl like you? I'd be surprised if it were the opposite."

Teyla smiled, "Athosians have very little inhibitions in the area of physical expressions of emotion…"

"Hey!" Major Sheppard exclaimed, as the tiny ship rocked slight again. "Who said anything about emotions?"

"Major Sheppard" Teyla twisted herself round in her seat so she could see the Major. "It is very apparent that you and Dr Weir are sexually attracted to each other."

"She is? I mean it is?" Sheppard ran his hand through his hair, making it stick up even more than usual.

"When we all consumed the Athosian ale the other night, all the inhabitants of Atlantis did things that they might not normally do and if you and Dr Weir chose to consummate your attraction …."

"Whoa! Wait a minute!" Major Sheppard exclaimed. Teyla was glad she did not normally experience flying sickness because this journey had been the most turbulent she'd experienced with the Major.

"Perhaps we should refrain from this conversation until we have arrived" Teyla said, she was a little too aware of the ground racing below for her to feel comfortable.

"Teyla are you sure that the answer to all of this can be found with your people?" Major Sheppard began to manoeuvre the 'jumper in the way that Teyla recognised as beginning its preparations for landing.

"I believe that both the answer and the cause lie with my people" Teyla said, as the ground rushed up beneath them and the 'jumper came into land.

And she was right, she viewed the squirming form of Jinto being held firmly by Halling's large broad hands. Next to her, Major Sheppard also had Jinto's best friend, Eaglen being held in a similar fashion.

The Athosian gin had been spiked by eccleberry juice. Colourless and odourless eccleberry juice was renowned for its relaxation effects, it had been until recent times, a powerful part of the Athosian spring rituals. It had taken some clever deductive work, on the part of she and Major Sheppard but finally they had identified the culprits – Jinto and Eaglen, both of whom had helped deliver the gin to the city a few days before.

No reason could be discerned for their actions, save for "We thought it would be funny". The thinking of children sometimes defeated Teyla, especially small boys.

"Are you aware of the seriousness of this act?" Teyla had no need to raise her voice, the steeliness of her tone made Jinto quiver with fear. Eaglen had gone pale. "This could have caused much damage to the Earth people"

"I'm sorry" Jinto muttered terrified, looking at the floor.

Halling shook his head."Major Sheppard" he boomed, "I cannot apologise enough for Jinto and Eaglen's actions."

Major Sheppard nodded, "Thank you" he said. "However, no real harm has come of the incident."

Teyla disagreed, "This may be so Major, but to contaminate the gin is extremely serious action. Halling, I will leave you to devise an appropriate punishment, but I would suggest that the severity matches the crime."

Halling nodded "Agreed Teyla. I suggest that Jinto and Eaglen be banned from making any trips to Atlantis in the foreseeable future."

"No!" the two boys cried. Teyla nodded satisfied, she knew that Jinto and Eaglen loved to visit Atlantis and were often seen tumbling out of puddlejumpers when their fathers were delivering food to the city.

She turned to Major Sheppard, "I think it is time we returned Major" as Sheppard let the red-faced Eaglen go.

"Teyla explain the eccleberry thing to me again?" Major Sheppard asked her as they walked back to the puddlejumper.

"In the spring rituals, after the long, hard winter our ancestors would sometimes augment their liquor with eccleberries." Teyla explained, stepping over a branch that was lying in their path.

"And that helped "relax" the Athosians?" Major Sheppard grinned as he swerved to avoid a low-lying branch and then stopped to hold it back for her to pass.

"Thank you" Teyla smiled at him. "After a long hard winter, it helped the people lose their inhibitions. A lot of Athosian children were born nine months after the spring rituals."

"I bet" said Major Sheppard, "but your people did not experience forgetfulness?"

"In most people eccleberry juice and gin do nothing more but relax those who drink it, but in some very rare cases, people have forgotten experiences only to re-dream them."

"So the mixture makes you do things you wouldn't normally do?" Major Sheppard asked rounding a corner into the clearing where the puddlejumper sat.

"The mixture only decreases inhibitions Major" Teyla said, "it does not make people act against their own wishes. Or desires" she added pointedly.

Major Sheppard flushed red. Teyla sighed and decided to take the bull by the horns. "You and Dr Weir merely acted on your desires Major, as did I, in that moment I wished to swim with Doctors Beckett and McKay."

"It's not like that" the Major snapped. "You don't understand! Elizabeth and I can't have a relationship!"

"Why not?" said Teyla, "You are both leaders, and you both find each other attractive."

"It's not professional."

"Professional?" Teyla wondered.

"It's not honourable. Teyla I think we should report that the berries make people do things they wouldn't normally do"

Teyla just stopped and looked at the Major in total astonishment, but his face was set and determined and she noticed the sad look in his eyes.

"Elizabeth has a mate back on Earth." He said finally. "This way Elizabeth and I can return to our normal relationship"

Teyla took his arm, "Major, Earth is very far away and she may never return."

He shook his head sadly. "If we were on Earth she would be with him, and I.. well I'm not the sort of guy that a woman like Elizabeth would go for. And" he shook off Teyla's objections and started walking toward the 'jumper, "if we make it back to Earth where would that leave me? If we say that the berries make people do things they'd would never do, then we can more easily forget what happened. Besides" he grinned weakly at her, "think what would happen if Peter Grodin believed that he'd always wanted to get naked in front of Kavanaugh."

Teyla didn't smile. He looked at her and pleaded "Please Teyla?"

Teyla sighed and nodded. Perhaps looking at the wider picture, the Major was right. Presenting the story in this fashion might help some of the Earth people come to terms with their actions. She was thinking particularly of Dr McKay.

"Thank you" he squeezed her arm and walked into the puddlejumper.

Teyla shook her head and smiled. He was afraid and surprisingly for the handsome, confident Major she knew he was unsure about how Dr Weir felt for him. As she followed him into the puddlejumper she decided that this was a battle Major Sheppard was having with himself and one he'd have to win alone.

"One thing before we leave Major" she said. "How did you know that the undergarment was mine?"

Making Major Sheppard blush was a most amusing pastime she decided.


	9. Epilogue

Chapter 9: Epilogue 

Elizabeth Weir sighed as she took herself back to her quarters. It wasn't quite dark enough for the lights to come on so the corridors were suffused with a soft light highlighted by golden streaks from the dying sun. Sheppard and Teyla's report from the mainland, coupled with Carson's final analysis of the Athosian brew had solved the mystery of the behaviour seen on Atlantis in the past few days.

She had been relieved to hear that the gin had caused people to behave in ways they would never normally. Perhaps that meant she and Sheppard didn't have latent feelings for each, or if they did they could easily be pushed aside and they could get on with their jobs.

She needed to get on with her job. Starting a relationship with her ranking military officer was not professional, nor was it wise. Thankfully, the fact that their behaviour –she repressed a shudder- had been down to some spiked alcohol meant that everything could now return to normal.

And that included her relationship with John Sheppard. Especially her relationship with John Sheppard.

She was looking forward to an early night after a long, long lavender scented bath. No dreams, no midnight encounters with Sheppard at the door to her quarters. Just herself, alone with a good book.

The evening seemed to stretch a long way before her and she was suddenly surprised at a twinge of loneliness, but she marshalled her mind to bat away the feeling before really manifested itself.

She was a professional. She was the leader of her people, she couldn't afford to get involved with anybody, how could she send them into risky situations? How could she retain the respect of her people.

Sharing the bath with Sheppard might be fun though. The thought came unbidden into her mind.

What about Simon? She stopped walking shocked at herself. In all the emotional – and physical – uproar in the past few days, she'd hardly thought about Simon at all. She shook her head and continued her journey along the darkening and empty corridors until turning a corner she collided with John Sheppard.

"Hey" he said taking her by the arms and holding her away from him, "you okay?"

"I'm fine," she said, stepping back so that his hands dropped away from her arms. "You okay?"

"Yeah" he nodded. "Tired though, I'm just going to catch an early night."

"Me too." She replied.

"Good" he said.

"Yes" she replied.

"I'll just be on my way then" he said and started to walk in the opposite direction.

Elizabeth went to start walking toward her quarters when a thought came to her. "Major?"

He turned back, looking at her through the slight gloom of the corridor. "Yes?"

"How did you know that was Teyla's br… undergarment?"

He grinned at her. "I have a good memory."

And with that he turned and walked away leaving Elizabeth gaping at his back.

-Fin-


End file.
